Bear and Maiden Fair
by emmbot
Summary: Opposites attract, that most certainly is the case with Kurokiba Ryo and Nakiri Alice. A series of one shots spanning high school life to adulthood.
1. Chapter 1: The Ojou-sama's Groupies

**The Ojou-sama's Groupies**

 **19:54 - Nakiri Mansion, Totsuki - Second Year**

Ryo is _annoyed_. By the time they'd decided on the Shokugeki stakes – Alice won the coin toss and Hayama had begrudgingly agreed to take her on – it was too late for him. He's not in the best of moods when he gets back to the Nakiri mansion, so he bypasses Alice's room entirely on the way to his own space. It's entirely probable she's out with Erina, or hassling the first seat at the Polar Star dorm.

He decides he'll say good-night later.

So it's surprising, to say the least, that he throws open the doors of his room to find his ojou-sama sitting cross-legged on his bed, a frown on her face and a pout on her lips.

He sighs. It's all too easy to deflate when that look is on her face. "What is it, ojou-sama?"

She watches him with narrowed eyes as he unravels his bandana, the length of fabric deposited into a wash basket by his chest-of-drawers. It's not unusual, that face on him – but something is different about her tonight, and he has to stop to study every line on her face before it even registers that she isn't here because she's upset about the usual things – Erina, shokugeki results, her tech 'misbehaving', Erina, Azami.

"Where were you? I looked for you after the shokugeki, but you weren't in the hall anymore."

"Oh," He says. "Sakaki Ryoko needed help with something. By the time I got back to the hall, it was over."

She holds her breath, and her pale brows furrow even more. He raises his own brow in question – somehow, he gets the feeling she's gearing up to say something important.

"Ojou-sama, I need to get to the gym. Whatever it is, can you just say it so I can fix it?"

Alice makes an agitated, grumbling sound, her cheeks puffing up the way it does when she's sulking. It's not a flattering look, he thinks, but he has to admit it's cute enough when she's trying to get her way. This Alice, though – this version of Alice is almost shy. Embarrassed, he thinks, in a way he's never seen.

"Those girls cheering at you just now," She looks up at him, full-pout and petulance. "Who are they?"

It takes a moment for him to recall the moment in question, and then another to wonder why the hell it even matters. "I have no idea, honestly." He scratches at the back of his head, tousling his hair. _Man, I really need to cut this shit._ "They're Hayama's groupies, mostly. Can't imagine Hishoko-san's too happy about that."

"Apparently they're Hayama's and _your_ groupies."

"Is that what this is about?" He crosses his arms. "You're jealous because you don't have groupies? You do know you've got at least twenty admirers and three stalkers, right? I spent all of last week on shokugekis to keep them away from you."

She stares at him, slightly aghast, as if the thought had never once occurred to her. But then she shakes her head, reclaiming her focus. "No, it's not about that!" She clenches her fists, then stands, the words rushing forth in a hasty, frantic torrent: "I don't like your groupies, okay?"

"Well, I did tell them to shut up," He muses. "So I don't know why you're upset. It's not like I _like them_ , like them—" Something clicks into place in his head. _Of course_. He takes a deep breath, then brings his palm to his face.

There were many things about Alice that pissed him the hell off. But at the same time, there were also many things about her that made his insides go a little bit soft, like ice cream on a hot summer's day. He hasn't really thought about it, though – how could he, when the distinction between them was clear as night and day? She was the master, and he, the aide.

Still, he'd have to be daft to not come to this realisation after all the romantic comedies she'd made him watch with her. _She's jealous._

"You don't like them?" The platinum blonde perks up, eyes brightening. She looks so very much like a rabbit – at once nerves and excitement and airy-fairy exclamations. "Well~ I suppose that's alright, then! As a master, I have to know that my aide is one hundred percent committed to me, and me alone. I refuse to split your time with a girlfriend, so I'm very, very pleased."

He smirks. "Look, ojou-sama. I haven't thought about it. Being with someone that way." He lets that hang for a moment as he makes his way to stand before her. She's grown a bit since the Regiment de Cuisine, but so has he, and they've managed to maintain that comfortable height difference between them so that she could bury her face in the crook of his shoulder if she wanted. He's never told her how much he likes it then. "But if the day does come that I _am_ with someone, don't you think it's logical that it's the person who's been by my side all this time?"

Alice takes a long breath. He quirks a smile – and not moments later, she returns it. He tries to ignore the blush creeping up her cheeks, but she's _very pale_ , and every emotion and thought shows up on her face. Still, it wouldn't be Alice without a barbed response; and sure enough, she delivers. Or tries to, at least. "How dare you speak to your ojou-sama this way."

It's a little half-hearted. It's not even an insult. For all Alice liked to pretend she had the upper hand, Ryo knows she has no problems taking instruction – least of all from him.

He shrugs. "I'm still a seat ahead of you, so technically, ojou-sama, I'm the boss of you."

To that, she grins.

"Didn't you hear? I beat Hayama today."

 _That spice fucker's gonna hear from me tomorrow._


	2. Chapter 2: Skin Deep

**Skin Deep**

 **14:02 - Calabria, Italy - Two years post-Totsuki  
**

It's colder than she'd expected it would be. The table is comfortable enough, padded and covered with soft, supple leather. The scent of lavender fills the well-circulated air; the folding doors are drawn back to grant them a full-on view of the sea beyond, soft, semi-translucent curtains drifting lazily in the Mediterranean air. They'd rented out the entire property and its surrounding grounds, so it's perfectly private.

Which would come in handy, as Nakiri Alice is currently laying naked upon aforementioned table, breasts and pert nipples on full display.

"Are you sure about this, Ryou?"

Her high school sweetheart rolls his eyes. "How hard can it be? And, do you want Mozart or Beethoven?"

She hums. "Vivaldi. You know which song to loop."

Ryou does as he's told, then makes his way over to her side. "Ready?"

"No." It took forever to plan for this, and getting all their servants and staffers to leave them alone had been a hellish ordeal in and of itself, but now that they're alone and ready, she's suddenly nervous. It makes no sense – she'd been anticipating it, and she trusts Ryou with her life.

And she loves him. It feels right.

"We don't have to do this, you know." Her former aide is not one for gentleness, but god, he's all but a lamb when he touches her cheek, fingertips brushing the blonde locks from her face. "And it's not like we can't revisit the idea if you think you wanna do it another time."

She shakes her head. "No, don't be silly. We've gone to all this trouble. I'm here, I'm naked." She wriggles a little, making herself comfortable. "Poke me."

He shakes his head, then holds up the tattoo gun. The sketch rests on a table by his side – a stylised scallop shell.

The first dish he'd ever beat her with – the one that had won him her heart.

"It'll hurt," He warns.

"That's okay." And really, it is. "You'll kiss me better after."


End file.
